


New Beginnings

by gaysparkler



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Early Relationship, M/M, Mention that Alec Ryder dies, so minor spoilers I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13771698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysparkler/pseuds/gaysparkler
Summary: Everything goes wrong in Andromeda. This is only the beginning for Tristan Ryder. A short fic that describes how he got the scars on the right side of his face.





	New Beginnings

“What do you mean, she won’t wake up?” Tristan frantically asked, looking at the asari doctor standing by his sister’s stasis pod.

He was awake. He made it out. Why not her? Tristan and Amelie were always together. They went to the same schools growing up, both worked for the Alliance and both enlisted for the Andromeda Initiative. They got the same tattoo on the side of their faces, him on the left and her on the right, just before they left the Milky Way. They had just made it to _another galaxy,_ and she was not going to wake up? Tristan started hyperventilating. He felt lost without Amelie by his side, constantly cracking jokes and making fun of him. She was the happy one. He was the one who cried reading a book or watching a movie. Without her, how could he be happy?

Dr. Lexi was fast by his side and held him up long enough for him to sit.

“Tristan,” she started, “I know this is hard, but you have to be strong. She will pull through, she just needs more time and a little help. Don’t lose hope.”

He dropped his head into his hands, shoulders starting to shake. He had lost his mother before they left home. He felt like he was about to lose the other most important woman in his life. Looking up to Lexi, he quickly wiped his tears, took a deep breath and stood up again. From the other side of the room, Cora told him to hurry. They had to go on Habitat 7 and besides, his father was not a patient man.

“She’ll be right here when you come back,” Dr. Carlyle told him.

Tristan nodded and joined Cora to get ready for the expedition. Without Amelie.

~~~

Everything happened so fast. The shuttle was destroyed, Tristan fell out of the sky and crashed on an unknown world. Thankfully, Liam was not too far and they explored the planet together, hoping to find their crew. Defeating hostile aliens along the way, they saw Kirkland get killed in cold blood. Fisher was injured, something about his leg. Greer was fine, but went to help Fisher. They finally found Cora, Carlyle and Hayes. More aliens. Hayes got shot. Liam, Cora and Tristan went to find his father, who was scouting up ahead. They had to stop the storm, somehow. His dad said he knew what to do, so they all followed. Tristan’s hands shook while he held his gun. He was still not used to take other people’s lives. He, Liam and Cora protected Alec while he deciphered the language with SAM. After long minutes of shooting, Tristan was called to help with the door.

“This is where this all pays off, son,” his dad said in the blue glow of the room.

Tristan was not sure of what happened just then. There was a lot of light, particles of it reached Alec’s extended arm. When it was over, they both walked out and the thunder had stopped. His dad gave him a pat on the back, but Tristan did not even have the time to smile as they were blown away by a powerful force that came from the cavern. Tristan tried to hold on, but a crate hit him and sent him flying back. The right side of his face hit a rock, breaking his mask, the shards digging around his eye and nose. His fall lasted much longer until he hit the ground, shattering what was left of his mask. Tristan sat up, gasping for air, his brain trying to keep up with everything that had happened. Blood tricked down his face, but he did not feel the pain. His hands grabbed his throat as if it would help. His vision was getting blurry. The sound of his gasping filled his ears. Far away, he could see an orange light approaching him, the light of an omni-tool. His dad was there, kneeling in front of him, now. Tristan gasped, trying to say something when Alec removed his own helmet and placed it on his head. He protested, his dad was the Pathfinder, he was supposed to find them a new home, what was he doing?

“Deep breaths,” Alec said.

“Wait,” Tristan wheezed, “wh—what are you doing?”

His brain finally getting oxygen after being deprived for so long was too much of a shock on Tristan’s body. He could only see his father’s face fade to black, his voice a reassuring hum as he fell into unconsciousness.

~~~

Tristan was the new Pathfinder. His dad was dead. Sitting in SAM’s node, he could not move. The shock kept him in place. His mom, Amelie, and now his dad. He was alone. Whatever Cora was saying, Tristan did not hear it, what was the point? Right, twenty thousand human lives depended on him. Regaining composure, he gave a sign of approval to those in the room with him. He accepted the role of Pathfinder. When they all left, Tristan dropped his head in his hands, but felt something on his right palm. The skin around his eye was not right. Standing up, he looked around the room for a mirror, anything to see his reflection in. He left the room, desperate to find something. SAM did not hold him back. His legs unsteady, he walked until he found the nearest men’s restroom and stepped in. He put his hands on both sides of a sink and looked up in the mirror.

Half of the right side of his face was scarred. Angry red scratches around his eyes, on his nose, extending to his cheekbone and forehead. He was disgusted by what he saw. His eyes left the reflection. Taking a shaky breath in, he looked back up again. It was part of him, now. The scars. He would have to live with them, as he would have to live as the Pathfinder.

~~~

He still hated the scars. Sometimes, he could still feel the shards of glass digging in his skin. Jaal delicately brushed a thumb across the red marks and rested his hand on Tristan’s cheek. The angara leaned closer, pressing a kiss on his forehead. Jaal’s other hand was at his waist.

“You are beautiful, Tristan,” he whispered in the quiet of the room. “No matter what you think of yourself.”


End file.
